Thursday, January 31, 2013
During our short stay with life, the most unforgiving enemy is ourselves. Our missteps stain our souls and regardless of effort we seemingly can't remove the ugly tint. As a result, we seek redemption which is endlessly lingering on the horizon and never an inch closer regardless of effort.
In truth, life is not a reconstruction of the past but a construction of the present. Our lives pass as pages in a sketchbook. On each day we decide the beauty of the page until our book is finished. The present page is the page which requires our ink.